


A Few Too Many Martinis

by helens78



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Drunk Sex, Homophobia, M/M, Podfic Available, Premature Ejaculation, temporary impotence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-27
Updated: 2011-08-27
Packaged: 2017-10-23 03:06:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/245602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik and Charles stumble home from a night of drinking, and despite very much being interested in sex, their bodies aren't quite cooperating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Few Too Many Martinis

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: for a brief incident with mild non-verbal, non-physical homophobia. No hate speech, no threatening behavior. Charles makes the guy regret it.
> 
>  **Podfic!** I podficced this one (including singing), and you can find it [on my website](http://helensfic.net/podfic/2011/a-few-too-many-martinis-by-helens78/). I will not confirm or deny any rumors that I podficced it while nearly as drunk as the guys. >_>

Erik doesn't usually drink to excess; Charles is a terrible influence. Still, between the two of them and a helpful bartender and cab driver, they manage to get back to their motel, stumbling only a little, arms slung around each other's waists.

They catch a nasty look from one of the motel's other occupants in the parking lot, and Charles flinches back a step, glaring right back at him. Erik tilts his head, considering his options, but before he can do anything at all, Charles lifts his hand to his temple and wrinkles his nose-- and the man with the disgusted expression on his face lifts his arms into the air and starts caterwauling, "When you're a Jet, you're a Jet all the way, from your first cigarette, to your last dying day--!"

"A bit much, wasn't it?" Erik asks, guiding Charles up the stairs. "When will he stop doing that?"

"An hour or so," Charles says, "but the song might last in his head a while."

"Perfectly decent song, if you like that sort of thing."

"I like it just fine." Charles smirks. "His wife dragged him to the theater seven times for that movie, he'd have been happier never hearing it again."

Erik really can't regret any of that, though he does add, "I hope you made him forget us."

"Of course," Charles assures him, and he slides his hand down Erik's stomach, reaching lower and lower until Erik stops walking, a little more interested in where Charles's hand is going than he is in getting to somewhere private.

Charles gives him a strong, firm grope, and Erik groans and backs Charles into the motel wall. They're only three doors down from their room, but the hell with it-- if anyone complains, they could have an entire Jets and Sharks chorus downstairs.

But Charles draws the line here, it seems, because when he digs his hand into Erik's pocket, all he does is drag out their room key. «We're paying for the room, we ought to get some use out of it,» he thinks at Erik, a little archly-- quite rich, considering he was the one who started the groping in the out-of-doors. «Well, yes,» he agrees, in answer to Erik's unspoken thought, «I suppose I did, but I don't want to _finish_ it out here.»

«Fair enough,» Erik thinks back at him. «Then let's go inside where we _can_ finish it, hm?»

They stumble the last few steps down to their room. Erik tries three times to get the key into the lock, but between Charles standing on tiptoe to lick his ear and the fact that he can't remember which way is right-side-up and which is right-side-down, eventually Erik gives up and simply pushes the pins into place with his power, two fingers together and rotating in order to turn the tumbler. Charles gives those fingers a very interested look, but by then Erik's pushing the door open-- this, too, with his power, it's easier than losing his grip on Charles altogether-- and they're walking into their room, a bit cool from the overzealous air conditioning unit in the window.

"I thought we'd never get back here," Charles says, heading for the desk chair. Erik closes and locks the door behind them, setting the chain as well, and he heads straight for one of the beds, taking a seat at the foot of it and pulling off his boots. Charles is undressing, too, but he's neater about it than Erik is, making a pile of clothes beside the desk. He starts to take his watch off, too, but Erik gives him a wounded look. Charles responds by rolling his eyes. "You just want me to keep this on so you can move my wrist when I'm wanking off," he says. "I should wear rings."

"I wouldn't mind," Erik admits, finally stripped to bare skin; he crawls backwards onto the bed and turns on his side, propping his head up on his hand and looking over at Charles. "Get over here."

"You don't have to ask me twice," Charles says, and he launches himself at the bed, bouncing a bit before he finds his way into Erik's arms.

Erik takes advantage once he's there, stroking his fingers through Charles's hair. "I thought about this at the bar," Erik murmurs, gently rolling Charles over onto his back. "Thought about you, back here, open and waiting..."

"I heard," Charles murmurs, and to prove it, he spreads his legs, twining them around Erik's; he rubs his calf against the back of Erik's thigh, and Erik groans, bending his head down for a kiss. It's exactly what he imagined, exactly the sensation he'd fantastized about while they were waiting for their no-show mutant; he'll be at the next bar, or the one after, Charles has assured Erik that he's _certain_ of it, but he wasn't there tonight.

Too bad for him. Erik rocks against Charles's body, his cock half-hard. Charles gasps, wrapping his arms around Erik's shoulders; when Erik kisses him again, Charles starts rocking up against him in earnest, hard already, waiting not-so-patiently for Erik to catch up.

The trouble is... he isn't. Erik licks a soft stripe across the curve of Charles's lower lip, and he reaches between them, stroking himself. It usually works, it ought to be working this time, but for whatever reason-- _all those damned martinis, I really ought to have drawn a line_ \-- it isn't happening.

«It happens to everyone,» Charles offers helpfully; Erik responds by capturing his mouth in another kiss, and Charles accepts it readily, his tongue slipping into Erik's mouth, teasing at Erik's as the kiss gets deeper. And wetter... neither one of them's as coordinated as they are when they're sober, so all the soft, wet kisses are turning sloppier by the moment. Erik licks at Charles's lips again and again, as if he could take the lurid pink color off them if only he licked them often enough, and Charles, at one point, sucks on Erik's tongue. Erik's face is damp with it the next time he comes up for air, but they're both smiling too hard to care.

"You, then," Erik says, wrapping his hand around Charles's cock. "If I'm not going to--"

Charles arches under him, gasping already. «Your hands, I love your hands, God, yes,» he thinks, and Erik receives a mental image of his own hands, tinged with the way Charles has managed to eroticize them in his thoughts. They've always seemed like nothing more than hands to Erik, all about function and not form, but to Charles, the long fingers and square palms and neatly-kept fingernails are a tease and a pleasure every time he looks at them.

He strokes Charles's cock a few times, grinning down at him. "Let's see if I can get you to love them a little more," he says.

He's focusing all his concentration on that idea, forming mental image after mental image of just lying on top of Charles, stroking him off, and Charles relaxes into it, finally flinging his arms out to his sides and just moaning, rocking his hips up with every long heavy stroke down the length of him. And just when Charles is fully-immersed in that, the anticipation of coming all over Erik's fingers nearly making him shiver, Erik pushes himself down the bed, licking his lips, ready to suck Charles the rest of the way to his climax.

Charles gasps and comes up on his elbows. "Erik, _oh, God_ \--"

Erik's nearly there, tipping Charles's cock up with his hand, imagining how he'll feel against Erik's tongue, how he'll taste when he comes in Erik's mouth, and Charles lets out a strangled noise and comes. It's unexpected for Erik if not for Charles, Charles's seed streaking across Erik's face, onto his neck and his shoulder. Erik at least has the instinct to wrap his hand around Charles's cock after all, stroke him through the end of it, and Charles groans and arches and squirms from side to side under Erik's touch, biting down on his lower lip to muffle all his noises.

Unexpected, but Erik can't really mind. He laughs, softly, as Charles comes back to himself.

"I don't think I quite managed to surprise you."

"I was thoroughly surprised," Charles mumbles, reaching down to brush Erik's hair back out of his face. "A little _too_ surprised. You could have warned me!"

"I could say the same about you," Erik teases, reaching up and wiping a drop of Charles's come off his cheek. "I don't mind." He licks the drop off his thumb, grinning.

"Next time," Charles promises, "fewer drinks, more fucking."

"You won't get an argument out of me," Erik says. He climbs back up the bed, and although Charles gives his shoulder a suspicious look, Erik grabs for the tissues on the nightstand and wipes himself clean before forcing a warm embrace on Charles. Charles hugs back eagerly, now that Erik's not covered with come anymore; Erik snorts with laughter, nuzzling Charles's shoulder. «You're very squeamish about that, for a man with so few inhibitions.»

«We all have our quirks,» Charles tells him, but he's laughing, too. «Do you mind?»

«I don't mind anything about you.»

«No...» Charles reaches between them, cups Erik's soft cock in his hand. «Do you _mind_?»

«You'll make it up to me in the morning,» Erik assures him, and Charles smiles, squeezing lightly as he tugs Erik down for another kiss.

«I will,» he promises. «In the morning and the afternoon and tomorrow night...»

«Insatiable,» Erik thinks at him, enjoying the kiss a little more now that they're not so fevered for one another.

«You love that about me!»

Erik reaches up and cups Charles's face in his hands. «You're right,» he thinks, feeling warm and safe in Charles's arms, in this man's hands, under the protection of his mind. «I do.»

_-end-_


End file.
